A Good Front
by Roguie
Summary: Max has been back at Manticore for months. Should she be the good little soldier? Or should she be Max? Rated PG13 for naughty language.


  
A/N: Okay, so I promised to lay off Logan for a few stories.. no problem. :P This is meant to be funny, God knows if it is, but I'd love to find out if anyone thought it so.  
  
This takes place sometime after Max has healed from her surgery and has been placed back into re-training. It's written in some odd mess of POV.. basically Max's POV but told in the third person, that's why the narration is supposed to basically sound like Max. I'm still working with her voice, I find the girl hard to get a grip on, so I apologize if I'm off here.. but I can only keep on trying. :P  
  
Thanks to Chris for the beta job, yet again. :P Slap me the next time I rewrite something before sending it to ya.. will save us the repeated times through! :P Seriously, girl, you rock. Thank you.  
  
They're not mine, I just borrow them sometimes and mutate their inner voices. What can I say? It's fun. :)  
  
  
  
A Good Front  
  
  
She was beginning to run out of smart-ass comments. No kidding herself there. Re-training bit the bad monkey, plain and simple.  
  
Okay, so maybe in their minds, she deserved the military version of solitary confinement. She did, after all, send her trainer flying a good ten feet into a wall, shattering his skull with a single kick. Oops.  
  
The one thing she wouldn't allow herself to do was dwell on how much it blew to be back at Manticore. They were trying to fill her head with killing, pushing her that much farther every day, waiting for her to snap. Well, she had news for them. She was stronger than any of them had ever imagined, mentally at least. She didn't spend a year not jumping Logan's bones for nothing. Nope. She knew how to control her mind; give her long enough and she'd blow this hellhole once and for all. For a while, she played their little games: running her courses, sitting attentively through her lectures, all the time thinking how shitty the military life was on her nails. She'd finally gotten to the point where her girls didn't cringe every time they saw her nails, and now she was back at square one.  
  
She glanced up at the shackles that held her hands above her head and sighed. Folks at Manticore were kinda kinky: bust a man's head - get chained to a wall for a few days. It was like some kinda secret BDSM complex. She wrinkled her nose as images of Lydecker, dressed in a black leather cat suit, cracking a whip, came unbidden into her mind. Hurl! She paused and concentrated on the image for a moment, shifting Lydecker into Logan, and the cat suit into a leather thong. She grinned, impressed with herself. These drugs weren't bad shit once you learned to control them.  
  
For a short while she amused herself with her new found talent of controlling her delusions, before sighing deeply. She wondered what Logan was up to. She didn't have access to a television or newspaper here, so Eyes Only bulletins were a thing of the past. Still, it'd be nice to know if he got out okay. Her capture brought Logan and Manticore a little too close together for her liking, and not knowing how it all ended on Logan's part was the one weakness in her armor. 'Course the creeps at Manticore would never know that. But hey, right now it was her, a dark room, and these kinky cuffs that she'd ditch in a second if it'd serve her any real purpose other than pissing off the big bads that much more. Ah, what the hell? Her arms were hurting anyway. She yanked down hard, pulling the shackles and chains out of the wall. So it took a little more effort than she'd expected. Chill. The girl was drugged.  
  
She rubbed her wrists casually as she pulled herself to the cell bars at the entrance to her prison. "Hey, you boys gonna feed a girl, or is motivational starvation on this weeks lesson plan?" As expected, she received no response. Well, screw them, anyway. Manticore food was nothing but poorly disguised gruel, nothing like one of Logan's culinary creations.  
  
Next to the man himself, that was probably what she missed the most about her life on the outside. She could do without Jam Pony, could live without her bike. She missed Original Cindy and the gang, but that was small shit when she could be crashed at Logan's right now, indulging herself on something tasty. She blinked. Food. Tasty food! Not that Logan wouldn't be tasty too, but right now, she'd kill for a chicken with some funky French name attached to it.  
  
She shook her head, stretching out on the ground to work out her muscles and do a few sets of sit-ups. No sense letting herself fall apart, she figured. After all, pretty soon the Manticore idiots would have to screw up and she'd need to be sharp to book. Those creepy X-7 kids were damn fast, and Max didn't intend on getting gunned down again. Having a bullet burn through her chest hurt like a bitch, and she was not eager to repeat the experience. Although, she wouldn't mind busting a cap in her look-alike's ass. How fucked up is that? She wasn't good enough, so they made another, more loyal Max? She sniffed. And all this time she thought she was loved. Yeah, right. To Manticore, she was just a multi-million dollar lost dog. Well, woof, woof. This doggie was getting her ass re-lost as soon as possible.  
  
Footsteps in the hallway indicated the approach of one of her captors. Her eyebrows rose and she got to her feet. She leaned casually against the bars and made a show out of digging dirt out from under her nails.  
  
Renfro, flanked by her gang of guards mixed with the loyal X-7s, watched her for a moment.  
  
"What are you doing, 452?"  
  
Max'd been stuck in this military hellhole for months. She was sick of playing the good little soldier and made up her mind, drugs or not, she'd either bust her ass outta there or she'd damn well be herself when they took her down. No X-5452 shit.. Her name is Max, she has a personality, a mind, and a life that she damn well intended to get back to, just not at the cost of her soul.  
  
Max lifted an eyebrow and flashed Renfro a cocky smile. "This place is hell on a girl's hygiene."  
  
Before she could react, an X-7's hand shot out and Max found her forehead striking the metal bars with great force. A droplet of blood trickled down her cheek, falling to the floor.  
  
"Aww, what'd you have to go and do that for? And with tomorrow night being the prom'n all." Max sighed dramatically, all the while wincing internally. Damn, they were fast!  
  
"When are you going to drop the act, 452? You're here now, where all X-5s belong. When are you just going to give in?"  
  
Max bit down on her fingernail and frowned, batting her eyelids lightly. "Do I get double points if I get this right?"  
  
This time she was ready for the attack, and backed away, out of reach. She smiled prettily as the soldier-child glared and stepped back.  
  
"Why don't you call off your new puppies, Renfro? Or are you too chicken shit to take me on by yourself?"  
  
"I'm not afraid, 452, but I'm not stupid either. You have to realize that you're going to spend your life behind these bars unless you rejoin us. Willingly or not."  
  
"You're breakin' my heart." She sighed and flipped her hair over her shoulders, ignoring the shooting pain in her skull. "Why don't you just admit you're jealous of me?" She kissed the air and laughed.  
  
Renfro sighed and motioned the X-7s forward, opening the cell. For her part, Max gave a good fight, but in her drugged state, they were too much for her and she went down, hard, bleeding from gashes over various body parts. Renfro approached with a syringe, injecting more drugs into Max's already tired body.  
  
"Oooh, goodie, gettin' m'fix." Her voice was slightly slurred due to a mouthful of blood. As the high dose of drugs hit her system, her eyes rolled back in her head. Unable to command her own limbs, she remained on the floor as Renfro and the next generation of mutants exited the cell.  
  
"We'll see how you feel in the morning. Maybe then you'll see things in a different light."  
  
Max rolled her body to her side with marked effort, managing one last bloody grin. "Fight the good fight, precious." Damn, she'd always wanted to use that line. Too bad it was wasted on Renfro.  
  
Renfro paused, her back stiffening as she swallowed whatever retort was upon her lips. Finally, she walked away, not looking back.  
  
Max returned to lying on her back, staring up at the ceiling of her cell. Okay, so today wouldn't be the day she busted out of there, but she'd learned some manner of patience in the last few months. She knew the day would come soon; they couldn't keep her in this cell forever. Besides, she had a... meal... to get home to.  
  
New images of Logan danced before her eyes as the drugs lulled her body into a sleep state. Manticore may hold her physically, but her dreams were a welcome escape.  
  
End.  



End file.
